blamebrampton: 15th century woodcut of a hound (Default)
blamebrampton ([personal profile] blamebrampton) wrote2008-07-25 10:06 pm

In which Brammers spreads some fucking sunshine

There are scads of memes going around at the moment, including one in which you say things to people on your flist anonymously. I am playing my version of this one. It's cheery.

"Why are you relentlessly Pollyanna at us?" you may ask.

"Because there are enough crap things in the world without me choosing to be one of them," I reply. "Harden the fuck up and take a compliment."

Every single person on my flist is covered by at least one of the following. Some are covered by several. If you think I mean you, I do.

1. I am always so touched by the generosity you display in both your posts and your comments. Your warmth is contagious and your kindness is inspirational.

2. You see things in ways that would never have occurred to me, but once you have pointed them out, I see things differently, too.

3. You are a completely brilliant parent. Your kids must have a fabulous time of it!

4. Do please write an original novel and become terribly famous and wealthy. I feel it would be fun for you and then I would have something else good to read.

5. You know, you are fabulously good looking.

6. We have pretty much nothing in common. I don't care, I like you anyway.

7. I never have time to read your stories, I feel very badly about this. One day I will.

8. You are SO MUCH FUN. And let us not forget the smart.

9. Your strength and resilience amaze me.

10. God, you're talented.

11. I know that things seem grim right now, but in the future, you will look back and see how strong you were through all of this, and you will be amazed at what you can do.

12. On those days when you have no idea what you're doing, nor what to do next, nor any sense of why it's happening, relax. You're young. You're allowed to make mistakes, it's how you learn to be a smug, slightly condescending but well-intentioned adult.

13. I wish I could still run the way you do.

14. My fingers, and my toes, are crossed for you. I want you to have that dream. But I also know that you will find another, fine and worthwhile dream if this one doesn't work out.

15. That thing that you said to me made a real and significant difference to my life. I treasure it, and value you.

16. Every time I think about meeting you, I feel very happy about the serendipity of the internet.

17. You are SO my secret twin/lovechild/crush.

18. Your adventures sound ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY brilliant.

19. Of COURSE you can do it. Der! You can do it better than anyone else could, too.

20. Thank you so much for the love and laughter! I like the fact that my face is ageing into smile lines because of people like you.

[identity profile] blamebrampton.livejournal.com 2008-07-25 06:18 pm (UTC)(link)
Spread, spread, spread!!! And your numbers include but are not limited to 1, 3 and 15.

That sounds a bit like bingo. Oh dear. Oh well ;-)

[identity profile] marguerite-26.livejournal.com 2008-07-25 06:44 pm (UTC)(link)
1,3,15? Srsly? I was guessing 7. :D

But 3? Did you see my last post? I almost lost one fast little runner. ::ties them up for the rest of their lives::

I am v. curious about 15. Was it the evil nun/good nun stampeeds over a tourist conversation?

[identity profile] blamebrampton.livejournal.com 2008-07-26 05:45 am (UTC)(link)
HA! See, you think that makes you look bad, but you are talking to a woman who cheerfully wandered up the road with her baby nephew (those half-sisters were finally good for something!) in a carrying thingy, popped him down asleep on the floor of the bookshop, then started to wander back down the road with no baby.

The bookshop girl was standing in the doorway shrieking: "You! Come back! Long-haired girl! English lady! You FORGOT THE BABY!"

Startled from my dreamy reverie, I span about and did the only thing I could in the situation. I shrieked back: "Oh my goodness! MY NEPHEW!"

Because it is so much better to be known as a crappy aunt than thought a neglectful mother ;-) Yet this is still better than the time my dad lost me for three days. I was perfectly safe the whole time, I hasten to add.

Did you mean 13? I shattered my right foot in a big cycling accident 10 years ago this month and have never really been able to run well or regularly since. I miss it a great deal.

[identity profile] marguerite-26.livejournal.com 2008-07-26 12:38 pm (UTC)(link)
OMg that is too funny! I'm sure completely traumatizing for you. but funny since nothing bad happened.

Oh! your poor foot!

[identity profile] blamebrampton.livejournal.com 2008-07-26 04:40 pm (UTC)(link)
The being forgotten was pretty funny. I was with my Dad's friend and we had moved recently, so when he was asking if I knew my phone number I could only shrug and say "I haven't learned it yet!" After a few days of phoning around trying to find where Dad had ended up, he caved and took me to my grandparents. This is why I learned at an early age that parents can get in trouble, too!

As to my poor little nephew, I had that moment at the counter: Am I forgetting something? No, I have my purse, my umbrella, my book ... all good!

This is why I have no children, I suspect my parenting skills may have been inherited from my parents. But I am a very funny aunt once children are able to walk under their own steam ...